Tooth and Claw

With each wolf that arrived, Azoula would nod and acknowledge their attendance, realizing she’d never met the adult males. But they belonged to The Syndicate nonetheless. And when the children arrived, her gaze lingered on them, assessing their sizes, assuming their ages, and guesstimating their capabilities. The young male asked for permission to join the hunt, and the tigress dipped her head down toward him, a shifty gleam sparkling in her eyes. “You may.” She says, granting the pair permission. They were young, and would probably get in the way- but they had to learn how to hunt, and learn fast, or they would not survive in the harsh environment of the Saxe kingdom.

Her attention shifts to the Sultan when he arrives, her front end gracefully bowing down; a show of respect for their leader. They did not have to exchange words- Azoula knew he was here to observe and feast on the kill after his subordinates took it down. As was his right as King.

With the hunting party settled, Azoula leaps down from her rocky perch, landing on silent paws, and slinking forward with lithe, feline grace. “Hunters of The Syndicate.” She begins, addressing them all. “I’ve gathered you here for a hunt.” Her lips pull back into a sly, mischievous smile. "“But we are not collecting meat for The Syndicate. We have enough in our stores for all the… hungry mouths." Her volcanic eyes shifted to the pups. There were so many new children with hungry bellies, taking up resources in The Syndicate. “Today, we hunt for the thrill- a trophy kill, to appease our Sultan.” She can feel Sephiran lingering behind them, exuding an air of arrogance and superiority. “Deep in the pines, a whitetail herd is protected by an abnormally large buck- a male several seasons old, cunning, and masterful in his leadership, who will defend his herd until his dying breath.” She’s pacing at the bottom of the boulder, primal energy building inside her at the thought of a challenge. This would not be a simple hunt- it was a risky move to target the formidable buck. "If this hunt is beyond your capabilities.” She’s looking at the adult males now. “Leave.” She waives her paw dismissively at them, as if they might shy away from the challenge. As if they were foolish enough to reject a challenge in front of the Sultan.

“And those who stay,” Her ears perk up, tail flicking with restless energy, portraying her eagerness to engage. “Can follow me.” She begins to move into the forest, each step calculated and silent, her focus sharpening as she follows the scent trail leading them to their target.

"Azoula Davati"